Prison Labor and Scars
by SirMandokarla
Summary: SWTOR: The Legacy. Embry Azeel is a young, idealistic Jedi. She fights to heal the Republic, not to harm the Empire. A simple request one day on Tatooine leads to her first meeting with one of the most important women in the galaxy.


"Master Jedi! Master Jedi!"

The brown-robed figure turned to face the man hailing her. He recoiled instinctively at the sight, but she smiled anyway. "My name is Embry Azeel," she told him, "and I am merely a Jedi Knight, but I will help you if I can. What is the problem?"

The anxious man took a few moments to remember what he was going to say, and spent that time trying not to stare. Eventually, though, he found his voice. "There's a supply caravan, an Imperial slave caravan, I mean, and my nephew's one of the prisoners and…"

Embry's smile fell as the old man trailed off, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. "It is alright. I think I understand. Where is this caravan?"

The man wiped away tears with a sweat-soaked sleeve and said, "I- I have a map, here on my datapad. We only got the information just now…"

 _And he ran into the desert heat to find anyone who could help._ The mirialan jedi gave a fond smile, and for once the man looked directly at her.

Blue-grey eyes sparkled as she withdrew her own datapad from her robes. "Update my map, and my companion and I will head out immediately."

The man's eyes widened. "Two jedi? Oh, I can't believe my luck! Thank you, miss. Thank you so much!"

Embry nodded amiably. Her friend wasn't a jedi at all, but that didn't really matter. Hope was hope, and in too short supply across the galaxy.

Her datapad beeped as it received new information, and she turned away with a kindly farewell from the elated old man. Her companion was not difficult to spot, being seven feet tall and a few shades darker green than Embry herself. The Jedi started towards him, enjoying the soft displacement of sand as she walked. Once she was close enough, she called out.

"Qyzen! I hope you are ready! Somebody has asked for our help!"

He turned partway to face her, turned left because of his blinded right eye, and growled loudly, "almost done, Herald. Will finish up now."

Embry covered her mouth as she let out a giggle. Qyzen had been busy haggling, of course, and nothing wrapped up haggling quite as quickly as a trandoshan raising his voice. Sure enough, the young shopkeeper handed over several medical packs immediately, in return for less credits than was really fair. She spun around and started towards the outpost's exit, confident Qyzen's large strides would catch up quickly.

The clank of armour and crunch of sand signaled the trandoshan's arrival before she even reached the outpost walls.

"What is mission, Herald?"

Embry lifted her gaze all the way up to her friend's face, squinting against Tatooine's twin suns, and smiled brightly. Several bystanders, attention attracted by the massive lizard-man beside her, stopped to stare.

"There is a slave caravan out in the Dune Sea. We can intercept it somewhere along this path." She indicated a line across her map, which now held more information on the Dune Sea than she could have hoped to get alone.

Qyzen politely borrowed the datapad, inspecting the map and the caravan's path, then he pressed a few buttons and handed it back, now marked with a route for them to intercept the caravan.

"Here is ridge for proper ambush, cover for escaped slaves. Will require less preparation, fewer people. Will also not be so far for slaves to walk."

Embry nodded happily, then pulled her newly-jostled hood back into place. Sweat already traced the pathways down her face, no need to add sun burn to the experience. Not that she'd have any trouble healing something as trivial as that, even with how much strength she'd lost in the last few months.

Considering that, she pulled her hood back once they were out of sight of the outpost, grinning into the blazing sunlight that lit up her hair like autumn leaves. Her shadow seemed to extend forever in front of her, and she busied herself admiring how it intersected with her second shadow and how both rippled on the windswept dunes.

"I would like to know about Krayt dragons," she said suddenly.

"Largest creatures on Tatooine," Qyzen answered, "most Jagganath points. Can be small enough that bantha is a day's meal, or big enough to eat bantha in two bites…"

He went on explaining the creatures to his friend for most of their trip, elaborating where she asked and where he was most interested. She never begrudged him that, always listening attentively to whatever he had to say. Before, with his own people or any friends he had made in his travels, he'd been considered reticent. Not so with the Herald of the Scorekeeper, the child who led him to reclaim the honour he'd lost in the eyes of his god. She engendered a trust even her master Yuon didn't, and he walked with relaxed ease near the little mirialan.

They'd moved on from Krayt dragons to wraids by the time they reached the ambush point, Embry having exhausted his entire knowledge of the species in her zeal.

"Here is ambush," he said, interrupting himself as he recognized the ridge and relatively stable ground below that the caravan would travel on.

"I hope we don't lose anybody because of waiting," Embry whispered.

Qyzen placed a hand on Embry's back, covering half of her tiny torso with the comforting move.

"Ah, no! Sweaty!" She leapt away, flapping her robes to fan her body. She calmed down after a moment, then sighed. "I want to go to Mygeeto or Ilum after this. I can dress up for cold, I can only take off so many layers before it becomes indecent. I can't heal heat!"

Qyzen laughed, a deep, rhythmic sound that made Embry glare at him indignantly. Sometimes he forgot how young she really was, her jedi formality made her so much like her elders.

"There is no one around of your species, little one. But you may burn if you remove your robes," he warned.

"I can heal from that," the jedi said confidently, then raised a hand to her chin. "If I take off my robes, I can get more wind, but I think the wind is too hot to cool off with. So I should get in the shade and out of the wind, shouldn't I? Except I need the wind to help with sweat…"

She went on muttering to herself for a while, at one point lamenting that she wasn't cold-blooded, which she was convinced would make life much simpler. Qyzen didn't bother to argue. She'd probably ask him later, once she wasn't so distracted by Tatooine's heat, to explain everything about what it was like to be cold-blooded. That was a conversation the trandoshan was happy to put off for a few more days.

It was almost an hour before the caravan showed up, and Embry had carved out a small hole for herself, sheltered by her robe hovering casually above her head. She sat there meditating, probably more in an attempt to take her mind off the heat than any mirialan or Jedi habit.

Qyzen signaled her, and she slipped back into her robe, quietly lamenting that sand had gotten inside. Then she saw the caravan in the distance, and the sight of the slaves brought her to a solemn mood. It consisted of a sand crawler and a few dozen people walking alongside it.

Both waited silently until the caravan was below them.

It was at this moment that Jedi Knight Embry Azeel, Herald of the Scorekeeper and curious trouble-maker extraordinaire – definitely her favourite title – realized she had nothing like a plan.

Not missing a beat, she turned to her companion and asked, "Do you happen to have a plan, Qyzen?"

Qyzen nodded, the shifted his gaze to peer under his companion's hood. "How do you feel, Herald?"

Embry didn't meet his gaze. "Well enough," she said, mustering more confidence than she felt. For the people below, for their freedom, she was feeling as ready as any Jedi and more.

Some days, it was all about motivation.

Her friend knew better than to question that determination.

"All slavers will be comfortable inside sand crawler," he explained. "Hold doors closed and call for prisoners to run. Then we must destroy sand crawler."

Embry gave a wry smile. "I am not feeling quite up to destroying a sand crawler today, Qyzen. Not unless you want to carry me home."

Qyzen shook his head, then drew his sword. "Will disable from inside. Now, let us go."

They stood and charged, covering the slope and most of the distance to the crawler before the slaves around it noticed them. Before the first ones could raise a cry at the giant armoured lizard in their midst, Embry ignited her lightsaber and raised it high.

"The Republic has come to free you," she yelled, "make for safety while we stop the crawler!"

Still running with lightsaber ignited, Embry reached forward with the Force and pushed on the sand crawler's hatch. It started to buckle, and she lightened her touch. She wanted to prevent anyone from getting out, not crush it. Subtlety was not her strong suit. Still, it was a good sign that she still had the strength to crush durasteel.

The slaves started to scatter, but a few yelled directions sent them towards the ridge their two liberators had come from. Once they were far enough away that Embry was sure no stray blaster bolts would hit them, she let go of the sand crawler's hatch entirely.

The door creaked and shuddered as, with an almost dismissive wave, Embry wrapped the Force around Qyzen and herself. They both stepped back, protective bubbles shimmering, and the hatch groaned, stuttered, and fell with a crash.

Then the blaster fire started.

Qyzen charged into the hold, laying about him with a massive two-handed sword. Droids and slavers alike fell beneath his blade, their feeble attacks dying upon Embry's shield. The jedi herself followed behind, checking on each enemy Qyzen felled.

She found the first one alive just inside the hatch, and pocketed her lightsaber so that she could use both hands. The sounds of blaster fire and pained screams echoed in the confined chamber as she picked up the man's severed arm and held it to his bleeding shoulder. As usual, Qyzen had done enough damage to put the man down without killing him. He was considerate like that.

"I need you to concentrate on your arm," she implored the man softly. Reaching into his body, she stemmed his shock and dampened his pain. "I need your help to heal something like this."

His eyes, out of focus, locked onto her face, partially shadowed under her robes. "S- scars," he mumbled.

Embry shook her head, placing one finger on the man's chin so he would look at his injured shoulder. "I do not have time for this. Please, this will not take long."

Her left hand moved to his shoulder, right hand to… the rest of his shoulder. Placing them together, she breathed deep. Her body glowed with a golden light that shone into the dim sand crawler for a moment, then moved to her arms, then her hand, then flowed into the man's wound. Embry's eyes opened, unseeing, on the ragged flesh, even as she saw more than most sentients could imagine.

New sinew began to glow as the Force took root. It caught to the arm, grew into it, met its lost kin and revitalized it.

The man's hand twitched.

Embry stood up and walked away, moving up the hold to a man who'd caught a stray blaster bolt. He was in horrible pain and his nervous system was struggling not to shut down. A touch smoothed it, made his nerves forget, healed those that cried out, and she moved on again. Absentmindedly, she reinforced Qyzen's protection, then returned to helping the wounded.

"Herald!"

Embry's face lifted from the bleeding man she was treating. She let a quick burst of energy into the man's body, hoping it would know what to do. Then she sprinted towards the front of the sand crawler. A chorus of screams came from outside.

The screams cut off as suddenly as they had started, and the healer tried to reach out her mind to sense the prisoners. She couldn't sense them, but then, her ability to sense her surroundings had never been strong. It meant far more that she hadn't sensed their deaths.

"Qyzen, what happened?"

"Shock collars, Herald," the trandoshan's voice echoed down the stairwells. "The prisoners may be hurt."

Sparing one last glance around, she called back, "please help the wounded, Qyzen," then ran from the crawler to check on the prisoners.

For a moment, she couldn't help a gasp of horror. All but a few of the dozens they'd come to save were on the ground, unmoving. Then she reached them, and she sighed in relief. Unconscious. Exhausted, pained, seriously hurt, but they weren't dead.

Embry looked around. There were dozens unconscious. She could revive all of them, heal them up so they'd be fit to walk to Republic territory, fix up the slavers so they could be taken to stand trial… but then she wouldn't have the strength to handle an Imperial counter-attack.

Or, she could let the prisoners rest, regain their strength naturally, a far healthier method when it came to fatigue, and she could almost guarantee an Imperial counter-attack.

Looking around at the unconscious forms littering the desert, she made her decision.

"Please bring them back to the sand crawler," she asked of a blonde-haired woman with bright eyes. "They will need some rest. We will see if we can get the machine moving again afterwards."

Then she returned to the crawler herself. The prisoners might need help, but none of them were going to die from a few more minutes in the sun. The slavers Qyzen had fought, however, might. The trandoshan had a great deal of respect for her healing power, and tended to make sure his enemies wouldn't be getting up again, rather than leaving her easy work.

When the prisoners started being carried in and the conscious ones noticed their Jedi rescuer healing the slavers, tempers flared.

"I would no more leave them to die than I would you," Embry said calmly, moving on to a new slaver. There had been so many in the crawler. "They will stand trial for their crimes, but I do not believe they deserve death."

"They do!" The blonde-haired woman was yelling, friends outside completely forgotten in her rage. "They're animals, all of them! It'd be doing the galaxy a kindness to kill them! You could be healing the people you came here to save instead of them, why the – the…"

Embry turned calmly to face the woman, who cut off with a stutter.

"You may be right," the mirialan admitted. "You were here. You knew these people, felt their whips on your back. Your judgement is better informed than my own. But if any of these men were to die here, that would be the end for them. They would be gone forever and the last thing they had done, the only thing they would be remembered for, would be trapping and imprisoning people like you."

"That's all they are," the freed slave protested.

Embry shook her head. "That is not all anyone is. Nobody, no matter how horrible the things they've done, is simply evil. They will have the chance –"

"You're just a stupid child!"

The Jedi met her elder's gaze, and the woman felt as if Embry was looking into her deepest secrets, like tossing a stone casually down a hole to hear it hit the bottom.

Then slowly, calmly, the healer reached her hands to her hood and pulled it back. One of Tatooine's suns shone its light into the hold, and it cast Embry's face into stark relief.

Her face was round and soft, not at all the face of a warrior. A tattoo, like a V filled in with two triangles stacked on top of a diamond, stood out under each of her eyes. Across it all were scars. They crossed from ear to ear across her nose, down her forehead and cheek, splitting across her lips and neck. In the hold's light, the scars were deep enough to cast long shadows across the girl's face.

The horrified slave woman thought she could see freckles scattered amongst the crags of flesh.

"It is true I am young," Embry admitted, "but I know more about what paths life can take than you might think. I know that my place is beside the wounded, no matter what they have done or the people who cry for their blood. I also know that, given different choices, this man could have been your liberator today. So, when he wakes, I will give him that choice, an offer to redeem himself rather than be punished for his actions. He will probably refuse, out of pride or ignorant hatred, but he will have had the choice. That is more than many people get, and the least they deserve."

From outside, above the sand crawler, came Qyzen's voice. "Herald," he called. "two Imperials are approaching."

With a last backwards glance, Embry said, "the galaxy gains nothing from their deaths. Start the crawler and get out of here, if you can." Then she pulled up her hood and exited the crawler. Reaching up with her hand, she lifted Qyzen down from the top of the massive transport.

"Where are they, Qyzen?"

"This way, Herald," Qyzen answered, and turned north. "One must be a Sith. The other, I am not certain."

Embry nodded and the two continued on in silence, spotting the two distant figures from the first dune they crested.

Qyzen was right about how easily recognizable the Sith was. Black robes stood out stark against the sandy dunes. The Sith's companion was a massive red creature, probably as tall as Qyzen himself. As they two pairs approached each other, the Sith's blue skin came into focus, then the malformed, muscular shape of the red humanoid. The angular tattoos that streaked across the Sith's face, circling her lekku and eyes, came into focus.

Then Qyzen growled, "Dashade. The Sith's beast is a Jedi-eater. Worth many points."

That also meant it was very dangerous. Embry could feel it, too. The Force didn't flow properly through the dashade, it twisted, curled, and writhed, as if in pain. The Sith woman walking alongside it seemed just as wary of the monster as she was of Embry and Qyzen.

"Back away, little girl," the Sith hissed, eyes flickering an unnatural purple. "This isn't your fight."

"It is," Embry disagreed, coming to a stop a dozen meters from the other two. "And it is a fight you do not want. The only thing standing behind me is a group of weak, innocent people. They can go home, never bothering you or your people. All you have to do is walk away."

The dashade spoke then, a guttural, primal language of clipped, sharp sounds and snarled vowels.

Embry wasn't sure, but she thought she felt a flicker of something in the twi'lek's aura. Maybe she imagined it.

"Yes, Khem," the Sith drawled, turning remorseless eyes on Embry. "The trandoshan first, if you would. Perhaps I'll even let you eat this one."

The dashade, Khem, raised his massive electrosword and charged, as did Qyzen, who rushed forward at a speed that would have surprised Embry not too long ago. Nowadays, she was ready, and the Force readily flowed at her will to envelop the trandoshan in its protective embrace. The ever-present and subtle offer of strength and speed it provided was… accepted.

 _Oh dear._

Embry's glance of concern and surprise occurred immediately after the Sith's attention returned to her, and the Imperial took advantage of her perfect opportunity.

Lightning flashed and roared, streaking through the air in a blinding torrent. Embry disappeared amid the onslaught, invisible amid the blinding light.

Qyzen fought on, exchanging tremendously powerful blows with the dashade. He ignored the Force-user's fight, confident in the Herald's strength and safety.

The twi'lek's eyes narrowed in concentration, then widened in realization. The lightning streaming from her fingers abruptly cut off.

Standing amid the scorched, glassed ground the lightning had left behind was a calm mirialan girl in brown robes, untouched by the destruction.

The dashade laughed and spoke in an ancient trandoshan dialect. "The morsel you guard is small, but tasty."

"Herald cannot be hunted, monster." Qyzen swept the monster's blade aside, trying to land a punch on its flat, toothy face, but it dodged nimbly aside. Qyzen reengaged, growling, "many Sith have tried."

There was a flash of purple light, and Embry cried out.

Inside her mind, a voice laughed darkly. No defenses at all. You've done nothing but hand me victory, Embry Azeel.

A note of bitterness leaked through that thought. The Sith was in her mind, peering around and testing Embry's will.

What she found must have surprised her. Entry into the young Jedi's mind was easy, she was a very trusting and open person. As the Sith tried to pick through Embry's memories, to change her thoughts and manipulate her emotions, an important detail became obvious: just because Embry's mind was open to be seen did not mean it was easy to change.

The Sith enflamed Embry's fear, threw nightmares before her eyes, brought forth memories she would rather have forgotten, but the sorceress underestimated her opponent.

There was a powerful rumbling, a dull roar that grew louder and louder, until every combatant clapped hands over their ears in pain. The ground shook and gave way as Tatooine tore itself apart. Qyzen and his opponent both stumbled backwards away from the growing fissure between them. The Sith woman fell and scrabbled backwards through sand that had begun to pour past her into a crevice.

Yet Embry stood amid the destruction and spoke calmly, her voice somehow carrying over the deafening roar.

"You will have another chance. Someday, your doubt will become remorse. I hope to see you after that day comes."

Then the land truly split apart and a wave of Force threw Sith and monster clear as a chasm opened between them and the defenders.

When it was all over, a scar in the earth stretched from horizon to horizon, and the twi'lek woman stared across it. Embry could see her grey-green eyes, even from that distance. Then she pulled up her hood, which had been blown back in the destruction, and collapsed into Qyzen's arms.

"Not so weak as you claim, Herald," the trandoshan chided his friend. But the little jedi was already asleep.

Across the chasm, Dar'vao didn't cheer that the slaves she'd been sent after would be free. She didn't give thanks for the surprising willpower of the scarred little mirialan she'd met that day. She didn't even admit to herself the hope she felt.

Instead, she snarled and called to her pet monster, turning back towards Imperial lands with a wrath-filled aura.


End file.
